


Oh, Please Say to Me

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Drinking, First Kiss, Get together fic, M/M, Minor Angst, Podfic Welcome, Pranks, Standrew is briefly mentioned, confession of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 09:06:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15969167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: Ryan has been pulling away.





	Oh, Please Say to Me

**Author's Note:**

> i was trying to come up w/ another shyan scavenger hunt fic and this idea came to me! this fulfills the prompt for 'hand-holding.' 
> 
> big thanks to hannah for beta'ing, as always!
> 
> enjoy!

It’s supposed to be a _prank_.

Shane thinks it’s a pretty funny idea on its face: slap some super strength glue on his palm, trick Ryan into a high five, let him think they’re stuck together, and then get some acetone and call it a day. Ryan will freak out, cuz he’s a private guy and he’s been even cagier lately—and okay, maybe the whole prank is Shane’s way of trying to get Ryan to open up. Point is, dude needs to lighten up. It’ll be _fun_.

So, with the help of Kelsey Darragh and a camera checked out for a couple hours, Shane covers his left hand in glue and finds Ryan in the breakroom.

“Hey dude,” Shane says as casually as he possibly can. He sort of approaches Ryan like a spooked animal, and even with his caution he’s rewarded with Ryan startled hard enough to nearly knock over his mug of tea. “Sup?”

Ryan looks at him with wide eyes. “Uh, nothing.”

Shane nods. “Cool. High five?”

“What?” Ryan’s eyes narrow. Shane’s pretty sure he’s already fucked this up. The glue still feels sticky on his hand but Shane knows time is running out.

“High five,” he says again, holding up his hand.

Ryan lets one hand fall from his mug and raises it hesitantly. “Shane, what are you—?”

Shane slaps their palms together the moment Ryan has his hand all the way up. There’s a _slap_ and a _squelch_ and then their fingers slot together seamlessly. It’s wet and uncomfortable but Ryan’s hand entwined with his is actually nice, a warmth Shane hasn’t felt since Ryan started pulling away.

“Uh, dude.” Ryan tries to tug his hand away to no avail. “What did you do?”

“What do you mean?” Their hands drop and Shane swings his arm back and forth, bringing Ryan’s arm along for the wide. Shane looks over his shoulder at Kelsey, who’s grinning at him. “What’s a little hand holding between buds?”

Ryan looks straight up _panicked_. Something like regret and guilt blooms inside Shane’s rib cage, but it’s battling with annoyance. Ryan keeps doing this: every time their shoulders so much as brush, Ryan looks like the world might fracture apart. God forbid if Shane deliberately touches him; Shane had clapped him on the back at lunch the other day and Ryan looked like he wanted to sink into the ground.

“Ry, Ryan, dude.” Shane holds up his other hand and Ryan actually flinches back. “What the fuck, man?”

Kelsey clears her throat behind them.

“Shit.” Shane turns away, keenly aware of how his hand tugs against Ryan’s. “Kill it, Kelsey. Go ahead and return the camera.”

She raises her eyebrows at him but nods. “You got it,” she says. She makes a show of turning off the camera and tucking it under her arm. She turns and strides out of the break room without another word. Shane waits until her footsteps fade before turning back to Ryan.

Ryan, who’s staring at their hands like it burns. Which it doesn’t, Shane triple-checked that this glue is body safe.

“Ryan.” Shane narrows his eyes as Ryan looks up. “What’s up, man?” He steps closer and Ryan steps back; his hip hits the edge of the counter and he knocks his other hand against his mug again. Shane exhales through his nose and tries to keep his voice level. “You’ve been acting weird.”

“No, I haven’t.”

Shane gives Ryan his best unimpressed stare.

“It’s nothing,” Ryan amends.

“Ryan.”

“Just, shut up, Shane!” And god, it would feel like a return to normalcy, except Ryan’s voice is too pitchy and he’s trying to yank his hand back like it physically pains him to touch Shane. “How do we fix this?”

Shane bites his tongue. He could go with the prank and let Ryan think they’re really stuck together. But his irritation is growing, as is Ryan’s panic, judging from how his chest is heaving. “Fine,” he bites out.

Ryan freezes. He watches Shane with a stricken gaze. Shane pulls out the bottle of nail polish remover and shakes the bottle at Ryan.

“The sink,” Shane mumbles. Their fingers are still interlocked but it’s no longer warm or pleasant. It feels clammy and awkward, especially when it’s clear Ryan can’t get to the sink fast enough. “It was just a joke, man.” They hold their joined hands over the sink and Shane twists off the cap of the bottle with nimble fingers.

“Oh,” Ryan says quietly. Their hands come undone easily, much to Shane’s relief. They peel apart and it’s kind of gross; were it any other moment it would be funny, they’d be leaning on each other as they laughed. But not here, not now. Shane pulls his hand away first and shakes off the excess nail polish remover. He grabs a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and tosses the bottle toward the trash.

“Sorry,” Shane says.

“Shane—?”

It’s childish, maybe a little petulant, but Shane walks away without listening to Ryan’s stammering. He walks back to his desk, saves and shuts everything down, and hastily swings his messenger bag over his shoulder. He’s out of the building and on his way home in the span of ten minutes.

His grip on his steering wheel is white-knuckled and his mind is foggy with anger, and hurt, and annoyance.

Ryan’s been building up a wall between them for weeks now, and Shane’s been trying to give him the space he so clearly wants. At the same time, he’s been trying to put out those “I’m your best friend and I’m here for you vibes,” but said vibes have been pretty deliberately ignored. His frustration has been steadily rising the more Ryan withdraws. The glue trick had been a sort of last ditch effort to get some sort of reaction out of Ryan.

And, well, he clearly succeeded. He certainly got a reaction out of Ryan: more of the same, only amplified, a million times worse.

The haze of emotions in his head only starts to clear as water starts hitting his windshield. He puts all his bubbling feelings into focusing on driving, and if he lays on the horn a little more than usual, well. That’s nobody’s business but his own.

 

 

 

Shane’s buzzed and sleepy when his doorbell rings. He’s sprawled on his couch and very seriously considers letting the doorbell ring and ring and ring. But Obi strolls over and meows in his ear, and he knows his downstairs neighbor will get pissy if he lets it go on. With what feels like a gargantuan amount of effort, Shane rolls off his couch and staggers over to his front door. He doesn’t bother with checking the peephole and just wrenches open the door instead.

Ryan stands at his front door, soaking wet.

“Well,” Shane hums. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Ryan says around chattering teeth. “Can I come in?”

Again, much like he considered not answering the door, Shane considers leaving Ryan on his doorstep. At least they’re inside, so Ryan won’t keep getting wet. But his clothes are dripping on the floor and he’s shivering loud enough for Shane to hear.

“Sure,” Shane says as he steps back. “Want me to grab some clothes?” Shane’s words are a little slurred but Ryan doesn’t comment on it. “I think I’ve got some of your stuff from the last time you stayed over.” Which was well over two months ago, Shane doesn’t add.

Ryan doesn’t answer right away.

“I’m gonna grab ‘em,” Shane says as he turns away. “Lock the door?” He leaves Ryan at the front door and ducks to his bedroom instead. Obi winds around his legs and it’s so routine, Shane doesn’t trip over him; it’s almost like a dance. Even being drunk.

Shane doesn’t have to dig around in his room long. He pulls out a pair of sweats that he knows belong to Ryan, and a tee that could really belong to either of them.

He tosses them to Ryan as he comes out of his room. “Feel free to shower or something, if you need it.”

Ryan nods and all but runs past him to the bathroom. Shane looks over to his couch where beer cans are littered across his coffee table along with crumbs from his three sandwiches. He shrugs and falls back onto his couch as he waits for Ryan.

He doesn’t have to wait long. Ryan comes back into the living room with his wet clothes bundled up in his arms and his shoes in one hand. They’re a pretty nice pair of Jordans; Shane is frankly surprised Ryan wore them in this weather. He can’t remember if they’re the same ones he wore at work today. Shane watches Ryan duck into the kitchen and come back with all his stuff shoved into a plastic bag.

“Sup?” Shane asks. He’s feeling sleepy again sitting on his couch.

“I’m sorry about earlier.”

That wakes him up. And Ryan isn’t done.

“I’ve just—I’ve been going through some shit lately. And I took it out on you, and that’s not cool. That’s fucked up.”

“No kidding,” Shane mumbles.

A grimace passes over Ryan’s face before he continues. “I just… realized some stuff about myself. And about, uh. My feelings for you. And shit.”

“And shit,” Shane echoes.

Ryan nods vigorously. “And it’s not some, like. Gay thing. I mean it is a gay thing. But not a _bad_ gay thing.”

Shane is thoroughly confused but he nods anyway. “Go on.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m having some no-homo freak out, cuz that’s not it. It’s more like, hey, Shane’s my best friend and I might love him and what if that ruins everything?”

Shane blinks. “I’m Shane,” he replies, nonsensically.

Ryan finally freezes. “Uh. Yes.”

“I’m also a little drunk.”

Ryan deflates immediately. “Fuck.”

“I’m listening,” Shane insists. “I am. I’m listening. I’m very confused. But I’d be confused even if I was sober.”

Ryan shuffles closer. His hair is still wet and plastered to his forehead. “Okay,” he says slowly.

“This is all very sudden,” Shane declares. “You, uh. Loving me.”

“It’s really not,” Ryan says with a sigh.

“Okay. Well, it’s sudden to me. I had no idea.”

“That was sort of the point.”

Shane pats the couch cushion beside him and smiles when Ryan cautiously sits next to him. “Start over.”

Ryan bites his bottom lip. “I don’t know when it started, it just did.”

“Sure,” Shane agrees.

“And I thought it would hurt the show, or our friendship if I, uh, acted on it.” Ryan looks down at his hands. His twiddles his thumbs and Shane wants to reach out and take his hand. He thinks back to earlier today and refrains. “So I didn’t.”

“Right,” Shane says. He’s following along. His brain is still a little muddy from the buzz but the situation is starting to set in and his heart rate is picking up rapidly.

“And then it just wouldn’t go away like I was hoping it would. It got _worse_.”

“You fell even _more_ in love with me,” Shane supplies. He feels more than a little smug about that.

Ryan rolls his eyes but it looks fond, if exasperated. A familiar look on Ryan’s face, and Shane smiles at it. “Yeah, I did.”

“Cool.”

Ryan pauses for a second. “I thought pulling away would help.”

Shane swallows back bitter acid in his throat, his annoyance from earlier resurging and mixing with the way his heart flutters. “It didn’t.”

Ryan shakes his head. “No, I know that. Now.”

“Took you long enough.”

“I know.”

Shane leans back and looks at Ryan with heavy eyes. “So, what now? You gonna keep pulling away? Should we… do we need to cancel the show? Or take a hiatus?”

Ryan’s eyes widen and he frantically shakes his head. “No, no, it’s fine. I know you don’t feel the same, but I can be normal. I can go back to normal.”

“Who said I didn’t feel the same way?”

Ryan’s mouth freezes open in an obnoxious ‘o’ shape. Shane, in the back of his mind, very much hopes that’s not what Ryan’s actual ‘o’ face looks like. Or, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. But it could be better.

Fingers snap in front of his face and Shane startles.

“Shane,” Ryan says in a firm voice. “What did you just say?”

“What _did_ I just say?” Shane thinks back. “Oh. That.”

Ryan is suddenly closer and the look in his eyes is manic, wild, _desperate_. “Yes, _that_.”

“I never said I didn’t feel the same way. I didn’t know _you_ felt that way.” Shane rubs at his eyes and sighs. “I didn’t think it would or needed to go anywhere so I put it aside.”

“How long?”

Shane shrugs and keeps his eyes shut. “Year? Year and a half? Dunno.” He listens to Ryan’s sharp intake of breath, the sound magnified in the emptiness of Shane’s apartment.

“Shane,” Ryan murmurs. His voice cracks. Shane opens one eye and stares sideways at Ryan. “I’m sorry.”

“You said that already.”

“Shut up. I _am_.” Ryan’s close enough now that his knee bumps against Shane’s thigh. “I didn’t know.”

Shane shoots him a crooked grin. “That was sort of the point.”

Ryan laughs and sounds a little hysterical.

“So,” Shane drawls again. “What do we do now?” Shane lolls his head and looks at Ryan. He can’t bring himself to lift his head, the booze weighing him down, but his heart rate is finally starting to calm. A wave of relief settles over him, and the sensation doubles when Ryan reaches out and links their hands.

“I’d like to kiss you now,” Ryan says.

Shane laughs but nods. “That was so lame,” Shane says as he tilts his head to Ryan.

Ryan crashes into him but the kiss is deceptively gentle. It’s just as awkward as first kisses tend to be but there’s an edge of perfection to it, the knowledge that they fit together well. The feeling that they’re _meant_ to fit together in this specific way. Shane brings up his other hand and curls it against Ryan’s cheek.

Ryan whines into the kiss and practically climbs into Shane’s lap. The kiss doesn’t deepen but they pull away and come back together over and over until their lips hurt. Ryan’s arm is still chilled where he wraps it around Shane’s shoulders. Shane’s left hand stays entwined with Ryan’s right, and it’s warm and soft.

“I’m sorry,” Ryan says again. “It was a good prank. I ruined it.”

“This is better,” Shane says immediately. He steals another kiss. “It’s okay.”

Ryan smiles against his lips. “Think if we tried it with Steven and Andrew they’d finally get their shit together?”

Shane bursts out laughing. “Worth a try. Worked for us, huh?”

Ryan’s grin is blinding. “Yeah, it did.”


End file.
